Script Enabler

A while back I observed that in pilot episodes, consistently around the third act (roughly about 28-32 minutes in without commercials), a character will explicitly state the theme of the series.

With a few notable exceptions (Sarah Connor Chronicles breaks this rule successfully), this has been the rule more than the exception.

Here is the 2009 pilot season edition of TV pilots that seem to follow this rule.  Where the statement of theme happens outside this range, I’ve noted the time.  Your mileage may vary.

Also, these statement of themes seem to make pretty good trailer moments, eh?

The Deep End – It’s what we do in the worst of times that tells the world who we really are.

Life Unexpected – You can’t be parents.  You need parents.

Trauma – After every night for thirteen years, at the end of every shift I went home, but not that night.  I could not bring this home and I still can’t [...] Who do I take this to?  Who do I talk to?

Mercy – You’re there for people during the worst part of their lives, you find a way to make it better and then (and this is the most important part) you let it go.  That’s how you take care of yourself.

Eastwick – Everyone in this world has a talent and you’ve been hiding from yours your entire life [...] Find your power.  Use it.

Melrose Place – You and me, we’re good girls.  It’s just not as fun.

FlashForward – Just because you saw that doesn’t mean it’s going to happen.  Even if this future stuff is real, maybe it’s a blessing in disguise.  Maybe because you saw it, you can change it.

Vampire Diaries (40:00) – All you can do is be ready for the good so when it comes, you can invite it in because you need it.

The Good Wife (37:00) – Mr. Childs.  The day you leaked that sex tape to the press, and forced me to shield my kids from every cable news station playing it in 24-hour rotation– that was the day I became collateral damage.  You think you have to worry about my husband, Mr. Childs?  You’ve obviously never made a woman angry before.

What I’ve also noted is that sometimes there are different themes working simultaneously.  Especially in ensemble pieces where you present many different points of view, the statement of theme works like a mini ink blot test… you see the theme that most resonates with you.

As recently noted in the New York Times on January 10, 2010 about Avatar:

[Avatar] found itself under fire from a growing list of interest groups, schools of thought and entire nations that have protested its message (as they see it), its morals (as they interpret them) and its philosophy (assuming it has one).

The article goes on to quote one of the film’s producers Jon Landau,

Movies that work are movies that have themes that are bigger than their genre.  The theme is what you leave with and you leave the plot at the theater.

There is no right or wrong answer when you’re looking for a piece’s theme: we see the things we want to see and that’s our prerogative as an audience member.  For me, debating about them in the coffee shop after the movie’s done is something that I live for.

In his classes at UCLA, Howard Suber presents the notion that if you want a story to reach a large audience, the way to go about it isn’t to appeal to the lowest common denominator but to weave different ideas into a complex tapestry so that there is something for everyone.

Supporting his thesis, as reported in the New York Times on February 6, 2010 about the commercial success of the film, The Blind Side:

…the filmmakers had taken extraordinary steps to create a story that would appeal to disparate constituencies that were only in some ways connected to one another.

As a writer, reaching multiple constituencies will require you to embrace points of view that are completely different from your own beliefs.  Not only must you understand different points of view, but you have to be able to passionately fight for them with your character’s voice.  Otherwise, you trade credibility and integrity for a straw man.